That evening I sat alone in my living room in
front of the Yankees pre-game show,
wallowing in
self-pity. I was so angry that I had actually considered going out
and scouring the
town for a party and some random girl to hook up with, but I had
never been a vindictive person.
That just wasn’t me. So instead, I had
resolved to
repose on
the sofa and think about where it had all gone wrong. I had even
drawn all the curtains over the windows to get it as dark in the
room as possible. All the better for
vilifying my
ex and berating myself
for my blindness.

Of course, my glass-is-half-full mother had other ideas.

“Michael, you should really go out to that party Tyler is
having,” she said, straightening up around me, picking up the empty
chip bag and soda cans that were piling up on the coffee table.
She had no idea Tyler’s dad was offering free beer. If she had,
there was no way she would be
prodding me
to go. “Sitting here alone is not going to
allay the
pain of a breakup.”

She was right, of course. My mother has a certain
acumen for matters
of the heart. But that didn’t mean I had to listen to her. For the
moment I needed to feel the
anguish.

“One night, Mom,” I said. “Just let me be depressed, okay?”

“You don’t want to talk about it?” she asked hopefully.

I shook my head. For the moment I was
taciturn.
And besides, if I started talking to her about it, she might get
a glimpse of my severeenmity toward
Marcy, and I didn’t want her to see that. I’d talk to her about
it when I’d had more time to cool off.

She smiled at me in a
forlorn way,
all my garbage gathered up in her arms. “I’ll order you a pizza.
Sausage and peppers good?”

I managed to lift the corners of my mouth. “Thanks.”

As she left the room, Ian walked in. I guess my father had
let him into the house. I was so out of it I hadn’t even heard the
doorbell.

“Maybe you can cheer him up,” my mother told him as they passed
each other in the doorway.

“You got it, Mrs. Riley,” he said. Then she was gone, and
he eyed me dubiously.
“Dude. You look like death.”

“That’s what happens when you find out that
fidelity is
too much to ask for from the girl you love,” I said
acerbically.

Ian sighed. He dropped down onto the couch next to me. “I
empathize,
Mike. I do,” he said. “You remember how crushed I was when Becky
broke up with me.”

I nodded and sat up a little. This was exactly what I needed—someone
to validate the
pit of despair I was mired in.

“And that’s why I’m here to tell you that this should be a
day of celebration, my friend!” he cheered.

“What?” I blurted. This had just taken a weird turn.

“It’s imperative,
Mike! The yoke is
off! You’re free! You should be out there partying, having a good
time!” he cheered, grasping my shoulder. “Now let’s go over to Tyler’s
house and get ourselves hammered!”

I sighed. “You sound like my mom.”

“Your mom told you to get hammered?” he asked.

I smirked. “No. She wants me to go out though. She doesn’t want
me to foster my
depression.”

“Smart woman,” he said. “So let’s go.
Sobriety is
not the prescription for a night like this. Believe me.”

“Look, man, I appreciate your coming over here. Really,” I
said. “But I’m not going out. You can if you want, but
I just don’t feel like it.”